You are not wood, you are not stones, but men.
Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor.
Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.
My brain more busy than the labouring spider Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
The bitter clamor of two eager tongues.
I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy, To share with me in glory any more: Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere.